Lion Heart
Letting the body and intuition support trauma healing
I recently listened to a podcast in which the interview explored the unlikely ways you will show up when in distress that are far different than the ways you imagine if only hearing about the experience lived by someone else. While listening, I recall agreeing with this argument, knowing from my years of working with clients overcoming trauma symptoms that so often the ways we command ourselves that we “should have done that” when faced with a difficult, if not dire scenario is often far from what our bodies do to override our brains. An incredibly wise default mechanism, that our body when faced with unendurable pain and suffering will go into our mamiliam primitive instincts- far quicker thank goodness than our mind would even have time to process adequately what is in front of us. How fitting that this conversation that I had heard just before would play out so precisely in what was coming my way.
My 4 year-old daughter and I were spending the afternoon at a park near her elementary school, where she started transitional Kindergarten three days earlier that week. We had been heading to this park every day that week to play with her best friend, a little guy that she loves and met in preschool. I have always prided myself on parenting from a secure base perspective- my children always know where to find me when we’re out and feel free to romp and roam to their little hearts content. Knowing about the importance of free, non-directive play, I can often be found when at the playground or park reading, doing yoga, or meal-planning with some cookbooks while my children befriend new kiddos or play with those in their pack. Some days I’m in the mood to romp around with them and can be found on the monkey bars, being the caboose on the train slide or giving them a big push to kick start their swinging. But on this day, I was meal-planning and enjoying the scene of kiddos all around laughing, playing and enjoying the afternoon after a busy day at school.
The park we were enjoying on this day recently got a much-needed renovation, having had many decades of outdated park equipment succumb to the rust and exposure that occurs living close to the coast. When the reveal of the new park playground occurred, I remember hearing a lot of parents comment on the advanced structures, expressing worry and fear about some of the designs being too dangerous. However, I did not join the other parents in these concerns. Given my experience as a psychologist with former specialization in early childhood and early development, I place high value on playgrounds having equipment that just pushes the boundary- that is not designed with so much safety that children often grow bored to the point of sometimes inventing more challenging and therefore dangerous games to up the risk-element of their growth and development of understanding just what their little bodies are capable of handling.
There was a moment on this day that my daughter, Chloe and her best friend were racing up and down a climbing structure that I had the thought loudly present in my mind, “that looks pretty risky”. However, I didn’t give it a ton of attention, having the following thought be, “she has climbed on this structure and played at this park dozens of times- she knows what her limits are, she’s doing great”. The kids checked in momentarily between dashes around the park, climbing high and shoveling in snacks before I finally finished up with my meal prepping and shopping lists. I packed a few of our items up and began walking over to Chloe and her friend on the highest perch when it happened before my very eyes- my darling, daring Chloe was falling backwards, headfirst toward the sand. Her head struck the red fiberglass stair at the bottom and I heard a father nearby shout, “Oh my God that was bad!” I raced over to her, and counter to every instinct in that moment waited a few seconds before moving her. I had learned in a training years ago that addressed the physical shock trauma on the body during slips and falls that immediately grabbing and moving a child, even when done with the best loving intentions, can perpetuate the feelings of shock and disorientation after a fall. After a few seconds, I rubbed Chloe’s back, letting her know I was there and told her I was going to gently pick her up. It was while she was closely embraced against my body that I realized my hand was covered in her blood from a laceration across the back of her head.
Trauma has a way to show us if we are willing to pay attention just how magnificent our bodies are. During those first few moments following Chloe’s fall, I heard nothing from the surrounding environment- while this could have been due to a hush falling over the park as many parents saw too what I had just witnessed What I believe was really happening was my senses were adjusting, orienting to welcome only what was necessary and what Chloe and I could tolerate in that moment. This meant tuning out noises, movements, interactions that no longer mattered and attending only to what did- getting my daughter safely to the hospital. My friend asked frantically whether I wanted her to call an ambulance. Call it a mother’s primitive intuition, but something deep within me knew that I did not want that. This was not because I knew in that moment the severity of the injury- I truly didn’t and did not have the bandwidth to go there in my mind and psyche. I deeply knew that I did not want the intensity that comes with the arrival of an ambulance and I trusted myself to get her there safely. I asked my friend for what I did need- a ride to my car that was parked off site after I had allowed Chloe to ride her bike from school to the park. She asked me several times if I was sure and I said, “yes, I’m sure”.
This entire time Chloe was pressed deeply into my body, our hearts were touching and I was breathing calmly, letting her know that she was going to be okay and that we would get through this together. My sweet girl kept asking, “why did this only happen to me?” “Why didn’t this happen to anybody else?” I told her the truth, “I don’t know baby, and I know this is really scary and we are going to do what we need to to get through it together, I’m not leaving you”.
As I write this, only three days after this incident I am flooded with different images, thoughts, memories of unconscious images from before, during and after the event. This is a very natural process when we have gone through something that has the potential to have traumatic impact- it is our brain’s method of cataloging and organizing information- like an internal SWOT assessment to determine if anything stands out that may have assisted us along the way. The morning and afternoon before the fall I had been listening to a training webinar on a new intervention I use in practice, the Safe & Sound Protocol. The founder of this intervention, Stephen Porges was in an interview with a friend and colleague, Dr. Tina Payne Bryson and were discussing the potential for our species if institutions, such as the family unit, schools, churches, and the workplace were invested in practices that promote the safety and well-being of the individuals within. Dr. Porges spoke elegantly about the capacity for spontaneity, creativity, courageous risk-taking and compassion that could naturally emerge when beings in their young years and subsequent engagement in these environments were engaged with a deep sense of felt safety and feeling seen, understood and valued. I scribbled down the name of Dr. Bryson’s book, The Power of Showing Up: How Parental Presence Shapes Who Our Kids Become and How Their Brains Get Wired, which is co-authored by the great Dr. Daniel Siegel. Without having had the opportunity yet to read this work, I trust the powerful intention behind the subtitle- our presence as parents undoubtedly shapes and impacts future generations, beginning with our own children.
In the days following Chloe’s fall most of my parent friends and members of my family have responded with great love and compassion. There has also been a consistent thread throughout, with a question from every person, which arrived in some form of, “were you totally freaking out?” I told each person the same truth- I did not have time to freak out. Chloe needed me in that moment of great vulnerability, and there was also something incredibly calm that took over my entire being and body- I knew without ever having the conscious thought that what she needed most from me was to be safe, soothing, calm and as relaxed as possible. This energy gave me the insight to stop home first, allowing her to change out of her bloodied dress, to rinse her hair, to get a cold drink of water before heading to the hospital for what I imagined could be many hours of waiting. It allowed me to have the consciousness of asking her if she’d like to bring her favorite stuffy with her so that she could feel less alone having two beings to support her rather than me alone. It allowed me the space to pack a few books and coloring supplies so we would have pretty things to look at while being surrounded by the sick and suffering for many hours in the hospital.
We left the hospital after four hours, which were filled with neck x-rays, a CT scan and six staples to the back of my brave Chloe’s noggin, as we lovingly refer to her head as a family.. When we returned home, I gently inquired if she remembered what happened just before she fell. She was very thoughtful for a few seconds and then looked up and said, “I think I let go to make silly faces at Weston”. Such innocence- so immersed in playing with her friend, having forgotten that she was not connected to the Earth at that fateful moment.
The next day we both stayed home from school and work to be together. She had been begging me for weeks to take her to a local store to use her own money, so I thought what better time than now that we are both home unexpectedly. The doctor, while he had cleared her for any permanent or serious head injury, recommended that she not be on any screens for at least 48-hours, as the eye strain could lead to headaches and dizziness after such blunt force trauma to her head. So at the store I’m scouring for puzzles, coloring, any activities to do together that are screen-free and not too physically strenuous. Chloe found the “lion veterinary kit” equipped with a little cuddly lion, two bandages, a full-body lion x-ray and an Elizabethan recovery collar. I agreed that it was her money and she was welcome to spend it as she saw fit. Immediately in the car she asked to begin playing with the lion vet kit. I explained that I was driving and her protests were loud, consistent, “I want to play with this right now! The lion is sick!” We popped into a Starbucks and upon ordering and getting a table, she began assigning the respective roles we would each play. She initially explained that the “lion is very sick, he has a fever”. She played the role of mom and assigned me to play the role of doctor. Within seconds of engaging my respective role, asking to check the lion’s temperature and announcing to Chloe, “mom” that unfortunately, lion had a temperature of 100.3, Chloe, now speaking for the lion, began discussing that the actual reason for the lion’s visit to the hospital was “because he was climbing on the rocket at the park and fell down really hard”. Without losing character, I gently began following her lead, taking the doctor role of what I had witnessed from our trip to the hospital yesterday and inviting lion to climb onto the hospital bed, which in our game was a folded wrapper from a croissant. Chloe “mom” explained that she was there to make sure lion wasn’t alone and let me, “doctor” know the kinds of tests that needed to be ordered. We had lion undergo a neck x-ray, a CT scan, laying him onto his back and talking him through what the machine would be looking at and finally got to the scary part- the staples. I let Chloe “mom” at this point know that she could hold lion right up to her chest so that lion didn’t feel so alone and scared while getting the lidocaine shot and staples. Afterward, Chloe “mom” put lion back onto the hospital bed and asked that the “doctor” and she “take some pictures to send to my husband so he knows what’s going on”. Chloe “mom” took the pictures, from the same angles that were captured the previous day when I had done the same thing to let my husband, Chloe’s daddy, know how things were going at the hospital. Just after the pictures were sent to Chloe “mom’s” husband, she scooped up the lion and whispered, “you’re going to be okay, everything is going to be okay”.
Throughout this incredible process, I could feel myself right on the verge of tears- but breathing through them to allow my full presence to bear witness to this incredible girl intuitively heal herself. I understood in that moment the urgency that she had in the car on the way over, why she was so persistent in playing with this particular lion- her body was organically and from a deep inner wisdom presenting for her the very language and landscape she needed to begin processing the trauma of the fall from only one day before. She wanted to get to work, perhaps knowing that any delay would only prove to delay her healing from within.
I have a deep and profound respect for the healing that is required from trauma. In fact, my life’s calling has placed me within the position of witnessing fearless individuals on their quest to heal from the insidious impacts of unresolved trauma responses. I subscribe to the theoretical understanding that is finally getting the recognition from the mainstream medical and psychiatric fields that trauma does not happen to us, but occurs within our bodies. When our bodies are presented with events that are unendurable, beyond our control, that send us into moments of shock and despair- the physiological impacts can be confining, terrorizing and life-limiting. I believe this dedication of my life’s work to the respect that trauma requires, but also the knowing that healing is possible allowed me to be more prepared for what Chloe and I experienced that day.
Upon completing this writing, something compelled me to look up the meaning of Chloe’s name. A fun exercise that I had done back when I was pregnant with her and at times when thinking of it after she was born, the biblical and Latin meaning of her name is “young green shoot” often connected to springtime, fertility and new beginnings. But something in me kept searching, I wanted to find something beyond the obvious, the familiar, to find something more connected to who Chloe is at her core. And there it was, the urban definition of Chloe:
A Chloe is someone who, despite the whole world trying to crush her at times, is invincible
